


Aftermath

by buzzoff



Category: The 100
Genre: Almost Drowning, Bellamy Blake is a hero, CPR, High School AU, M/M, Modern AU, continuation of Fake ID's and Sunsets, ocean fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:28:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7099156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buzzoff/pseuds/buzzoff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy has to clean up after the graduation party and ropes Murphy into helping him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, yeah, this is SO LATE.  
> Todays (er... yesterday's...) prompt was "salt", and since I'm trying to keep a summer-ish vibe, I decided to go with another beach fic.  
> Also, wow, this isn't jonty! Look at me go!

The world was spinning and twirling and doing all the other things John Murphy knew he couldn't do at the moment. Poor guy could barely sit up straight, though he eventually managed, with the help of his extremely wobbly arms and extremely stubborn personality. Murphy brought a quick hand to his face, sighing deeply into it before running it through his sand-ridden hair. He then immediately hid his face in the crook of his arm. "Goddamn," he mumbled, regarding the overwhelming brightness of the sun shining down like no tomorrow, which definitely did not help the growing migraine. To say he felt like shit would be a severe understatement.  
A full two minutes passed before the teen even tried to get up, and a full three minutes passed before he successfully obtained an even vague likeliness to an upright posture. Plastic cups crushed under his gauzy steps up the beach, sympathetic thoughts of whoever had to clean that up filled Murphy's head. I mean, he wasn't going to do it, he didn't even want to come to the party in the first place, but he was still sorry for the bastard that did.  
It wasn't until he was halfway up the beach did John try to call someone to pick him up only to realize he didn't have his cell phone in his pocket. In fact, he didn't have his cell phone anywhere. This predicament earned a few whispered profanities from Murphy as he was forced to turn around and trek back to where he woke up, silently hoping that no one nabbed it while he slept. "That'd be a fucked way to start off summer vacation." He mumbled to himself, staring at the sand as he created patterns in it to avoid looking at the sun-filled sky. "Trash everywhere." He remarked as he shook his head, bending over to plop one crushed, red cup into the trash can right beside it. Technically, he'd done his part.  
Five minutes of step after miserable step later, Murphy finally found himself at the site he woke up, beside a shallow sand ditch. Luckily, the teen's belongings were still there and still in tact. Not a rip, not a scratch. Honestly, Murphy was relieved he wouldn't have to spend anymore time on this wretched hell hole of a bea-  
"Murphy!" a voice called from Murphy's immediate right, causing him to turn his head in that direction. Bellamy Blake, what a joy.  
"What?" Murphy returned, setting his mouth into a hard line and fixing his eyes elsewhere, trying to look violently disinterested.  
"Come here," Bellamy yelled, placing a hand over his brows to function as a makeshift visor. "I can't yell at you through a whole conversation."  
"Actually," Murphy starting walking straight ahead, not taking his eyes off the ground, "That's alright, I was just leaving." He yelled over his shoulder.  
"Wait! No!" Bellamy called, starting to jog down where the other teen was, which was thankfully down a hill and not up it, "Murphy," He tried again, much closer this time, "Stop walking, I can't clean this up by myself," He explained, finally slowing to a halt as he reached a finally still Murphy. "And you're the only one who hasn't left yet." He added.  
"Tough break." Murphy shrugged, crossing his arms across his chest. "It's not my fault you have bad friends."  
Bellamy refrained from rolling his eyes to the back of his skull as he huffed in annoyance. "I don't have bad friends, they just went home so they could sleep last night. I don't blame them, I'd rather be in bed right now, too." the taller boy sighed, shaking his head lightly. "Besides, it might not be your fault we're the only ones out here, but it is your fault you're still here, so why not just make the most of your time and throw away a few cups?"  
For some strange reason, the way Bellamy said "we're the only ones out here" made the shorter teen uneasy, though, thinking about being alone in a secluded area with the guy who tried to kill you a few years back might do that to you. Murphy tried switching his phone on while shaking his head to try and call someone before Bellamy roped him into a clean up party he wanted no part of. He just wanted to go home and be safe. "No thanks, Blake, I think I'll pass." He said, staring at his black phone screen as if willing it to come on. "Besides, my ride's gonna be here anytime now." He lied.  
"Murphy... you haven't even called anyone. Is your phone even on?" He asked, cracking a smirk at the entire situation. His smirk only grew wider as he realized Murphy's phone was dead. A few moments filled with glaring Murphy faces passed as Bellamy came up with an excellent solution. "I have a charger plugged into my car if you need to call anyone, but I'm not going to help a guy who I know wouldn't help me." He explained, watching Murphy's face change from a glare to a look of utter irritation as he tried not to laugh.  
"Right." Murphy rolled his eyes before fixing them on the smug teen before him. "So, let me guess, you'll let me charge my phone if I help you clean?"  
"Ding ding ding!" Bellamy said as his face let off a coy smile, knowing Murphy really had no other choice but to help him unless he wanted to walk home in the summer's heat.  
Murphy huffed and scanned the scene, noticing that Bellamy had already cleared a small section to the right of the sand ditch he woke up in. A few moments passed as he tried to find another way out of this, but to no avail. "Fine. I'll help you." He spit out, looking to his dead phone in his palm before looking back up at an even more smug Bellamy. "But I get to plug this in before we start." He added, trying the power button one more time.  
"Deal." Bellamy nodded, starting to walk uphill towards where he parked the night before. Murphy followed begrudgingly behind, kicking a few cans as he went just because.  
When the boys arrived, Murphy plugged his phone up to the car charger and placed his jacket in the front seat before turning back to Bellamy who had since lost his smugness. "Where do we start?" He asked bitterly, crossing his arms again.  
"Oh, over there." Bellamy answered, gesturing to a plastic table set up closer to the ocean before ducking into his car to grab a box of trash bags. He rolled out one for himself and one for Murphy, walking to the table and starting to toss some empty cups and cans into the plastic bag. Murphy followed suit, dumping the cardboard box the beers came in into his own bag. Murphy sighed deeply every few seconds to let Bellamy know he was still greatly upset by all this, but that's as far as conversation went. Sounds of crinkling bags, crushing plastic, and clinking aluminium converged with the noises of crashing waves and distant squawking birds like the worst symphony you've ever heard.  
Murphy picked up one cup that had been laying on it's side off the sand, only to find it had been overtaken by ants and hastily drop it, spilling some of the brown contents on his pants. "Fuck!" He exclaimed, dropping his trash bag and moving his right hand to hold his temple as he clenched his teeth. "Well isn't this fantastic." He huffed, looking to Bellamy who hadn't stopped throwing away cans to notice his situation. "Bellamy," Murphy called with an annoyed tone, immediatly catching the teen's attention. "I spilled beer on my pants, do you have like, I don't know, a water bottle or something in your car that I could use to clean this off?"  
"Wow," Bellamy remarked, looking at the spot of Murphy's pants and then back up to Murphy. "I can check, but I'm guessing probably not."  
"Great." Murphy mumbled, following Bellamy back to his car with stiff movements.  
"Yeah, no." Bellamy answered, head still in car as Murphy stood back and watched him look for something. "No water bottle," the taller teen reiterated, now turning to face Murphy with a blue towel in hand, "But, I do have this. You could go into the water and dry off afterwards." He tossed the towel to Murphy and crossed his arms.  
"This is all you have?" Murphy asked, looking down at the towel with a disappointed look.  
"Unfortunately, yes, unless you could do something with CD's or empty energy drink bottles." He shrugged, sighing a little. "Sorry, Murph, there's really not much else we can do."  
"It's fine." Murphy said after the initial shock of Bellamy Blake actually saying he was sorry for something. "This will have to work. You just keep picking up bottles." He sighed, waiting for Bellamy to nod and walk away before turning and walking towards the ocean.  
The closer he got, the more pungent the salt smell became, getting more and more overwhelming with each step closer. Murphy dropped the towel on the seaside and looked out at the sparkling blue waves, simultaneously terrified and mesmerized as he kicked off his shoes. "This fucking sucks." He mumbled as he took that first step into the cold water, immediatly realizing that his shirt would cause more problems than help resolve them, so he threw it on top of the towel and shoes, momentarily looking back at Bellamy, who was still very busily cleaning up. Another step into the blue, followed by another, and another, and another, until Murphy was submerged up to his waist.  
It actually felt nicer than being on the hot sand, which was something Murphy didn't expect. He liked the way the water cooled him off, so he continued taking steps further out, until Bellamy was just a blob on the sand. Murphy started to raise his foot again, taking just one more step before turning back. The water felt so nice, afterall. As Murphy's foot started to stick out further, Murphy felt water rush by his big toe, so he yanked it back.  
The teen cautiously peered through the mostly clear water and saw nothing there, everything seemed to be fine. The teen shrugged this off as him just imagining things and decided to take a big step further, which was a horrible, horrible mistake, as John Murphy's foot never even reached the solid sand beneath his step. Instead, it was violently wretched left, all control of his own footing was ripped away from him and taking his entire body by surprise, plunging him under the water. All around him, Murphy saw rushing blue, miles and miles and miles of blue, getting darker but never stopping for all of eternity, becoming blurrier every second. Murphy fought against the riptide, thrashing and turning every which way to try and reach the surface for another breath. The teen desperately kicked and weaved, trying to boost himself higher as his lungs started to burn with need for oxygen and his limbs started to burn from exhaustion. The water broke for a moment around him, just long enough for a breath of air before pulling him harshly down once again. Murphy replicated his previous movements to get him back above the surface, desperately gasping for air before he was yanked under again. Murphy needed help, badly. The teen resurfaced and instead of gasping, he yelled out "Bell-" before his was yanked back under.  
"Bellamy!" He was able to choke out the next time, mentally cursing such a long name. Why couldn't his name be Bob? That would've been easy. "Help!" He screamed the next time, throat starting to burn with the crazy amount of stress it had been put under. "B-Bellamy!" He yelled again, starting to think maybe his friend had left him. Murphy started to think he was alone. "Help me! Bella-" Murphy gurgled as he was pulled underwater, mouth still wide open, causing his mouth to fill with water until the next time he resurfaced and spit it out, gasping for air until he was pulled back under. He wasn't being loud enough; he needed to be louder. "BELLAMY!" Murphy shouted with all the force he had left, "HELP ME! BELL-" this time Murphy was pulled under mid-scream, causing him to suck in a big breath of salt water, filling his mouth and lungs. All he could taste was salt, salt, salt. Salt in his body, salt on his skin, salt in his eyes, salt up his nose. He heard a distant call of his name, light years away by now, and his body was aching for rest. All he needed was rest, rest, rest. Rest.  
Rest.  
Re- 

 

"Murphy?!" A voice called urgently before pressing on Murphy's chest and forcing air into his mouth with their own. Maybe it's God, Murphy thought. Maybe he was dead and God was giving him CPR. He always wanted to know if God was real, and now he guesses he must be. Murphy slowly opens his eyes, seeing a figure hovering over him in front of the sun. God sure did look a lot like Bellamy Blake, Murphy mentally noted.  
"Murphy!" Bellamy exclaimed, hugging Murphy close to his chest, squeezing him tight like he was afraid he might slip out of his grasp. "Murphy, oh my god, I thought you were gone, oh god, Murphy," He rambled on, not once wavering in their embrace. "Are you okay? You're not bleeding, I already checked, but does anything hurt?" He asked, now releasing Murphy just so he could look him in the eyes.  
"I- I'm fi-fine." Murphy croaked out, barely managing that. He didn't even bother to try and move his limbs. He already knew he couldn't.  
"Are you sure? Nothing feels wei-"  
"You saved me." Murphy said in a voice that sounded like a question, knitting his eyebrows up at Bellamy in confusion.  
"Of course I did." Bellamy said, nodding a little. "I'm sorry I couldn't have done it sooner, I didn't h-"


End file.
